There was bugger-all I could do with the 999RS engine in the short term. I'd touched base with a couple of well connected contacts in Europe for the rare RS parts required, and was exploring options for (hopefully) repairing the cylinder head. So while I waited for things to unfold I distracted myself with the 851.
Where's that rubbish bin to yell into? Why the hell didn't I take more photo's during disassembly?!
Now, have a think about when would be a really bad time to re-evaluate your bike insurance and go with a different insurer. I mean, if your bike was engine-less, with bits strewn about your shed like a mad woman's poo you wouldn't do it would you? They're likely to want photographs verifying the condition and worth of the bike aren't they? So no sane person of reasonable intellect would even think about doing it then, would they? Time to give the poor rubbish bin another bollocking....
Then just sort of scooched all the bits and bobs waiting to go back on the bike into an organised pile on the bench. It was a bit like arranging a class photo at school: "You there, Ms Shiny Thing, get to the front would you? And Mr Carbon Part, over here please..." took another photo and sent them off. It did the trick, but you have to marvel at my stupidity.
The guy building the engine had called me with a couple of queries over the last month or two. I did a bit of legwork running things around, getting the crank/rods etc balanced, and then all of a sudden...
....it was ready!
It was one of those "shock and awe" type moments: you're hopeful, knowing that theoretically it should come together....but somewhere in the back of your mind there is a corrosive lil' voice whispering doubts that things are going to go off the rails, that all your research is wrong (hey, it's not like I don't have form!) so to finally see the crank cases from Holland, the barrels/pistons from Germany, the Mg clutch cover from Italy, the 748R heads/CR gearbox all integrated with the 851 crank and "best of the rest" into a complete engine was pretty cool.
You'll notice the few remaining black painted engine castings are pretty much gone, I've only left or touched up a few small bits here and there. The Corsa/Corse sand-cast cases and alternator covers etc are usually finished in raw aluminium. It gets a bit of a patina over time, never looks as perfect as the painted die-cast components, but I like the nod towards the competition stuff so I've stripped the remaining black paint and left the raw finish. The bike isn't going to be seeing road miles in the rain so hopefully I don't regret it.
Now it was just a case of tacking on all the fiddly bits. Things like the air-box, which I thought would be a simple bolt on turned out to be a pain in the klacker. The airbox is designed for the twin-injector throttle bodies of the SP/Corsa bikes, but the single injector on the Strada TB's is positioned slightly higher. As a result I could get it to fit over the TB's, or sit neatly amongst the frame tubes and steering head, but trying to get it to do both was just painful.
A few choice words and recognising I had to remove the front engine bolt to pivot the engine down slightly got the job done, but spanners were close to flying.
FYI, the twin injector throttle bodies fitted to the SP's are worth a lot of money but absolutely zero horsepower. The bore is the same 50mm regardless, and the early twin injector TB's have red or black injectors that actually flow less than the single green injectors fitted to the Strada. The twin injector setup sounds and looks sexy but the motor only needs X amount of fuel, it doesn't care whether it's fed by sexy twin or boring single injectors.
But eventually, you end up with this:
I wasn't happy with the exhaust either, but on the upside it was light and she looks positively waif-like viewed from above. No prizes for guessing which fork leg was leaking:
So the forks came back from being rebuilt by Russel at Dynotime, the engine was in and plumbed/wired up, when coincidentally a mate asked for a pic of the bike. So I threw the tank on to make it look a bit prettier. Hmmm, last time I had the tank on with a reasonably complete bike (for transport back to Oz) the fuel pump didn't work, might as well plug it in and see what happens, eh? After all the loom chopping, ECU swapping and general carnage the last thing I was expecting was a healthy "Whiiirrrrrrr" but away she went.
Hang on a minute, that means suck-squeeze-bang-blow are all accounted for..... so there was a flurry of arms and legs as the plugs go in and and I'm scrambling around trying to find some gas. After standing there for a minute trying to think of a reason not to push the button I watched my thumb act completely of it's own volition....only for the new-found compression across a bigger bore to overcome the starter motor and suspect battery. She'd turn over, but only just.
Another quick scramble and I've reefed the battery out of my paddock slasher for Take 2. This time she whizzed over......and bugger me if she didn't fire up for the first time in 4 years. And it sounded awesome! I was completely gob smacked: with a stock "916 + full exhaust" chip in the ECU (that I wasn't even sure worked, 'til now), an oddball engine combo, higher fuel pressure, a bunky exhaust, it just had no right to sound in such rude health. I was expecting maybe a bit of a cough or a stumbling run, not a bark with some real urgency (the phone recording doesn't do the sound justice):
May 2013 was the last time I'd heard it running, it was now July 2017, so it was quite a surreal moment. Next, it was off to hatch a plan for that exhaust.....and wash my overalls!
